A Touch of Fear
by frosted-wolf
Summary: Jack has agreed to live his life as Pitch's prisoner for the sake of his fellow guardians. Although Jack Frost is a strong, cocky teenage boy, will he be able to withstand what Pitch has in store? M- torture, lots of blood, violence, sexual harassment
1. Exchange

_**A Touch of Fear**_

_**By: frosted-wolf**_

_**Indeed my little monsters, wolfie is back. I am still writing "When Nightmares are Present", but I decided to pick up another story as well. I feel like I did a poor job personifying Pitch in that fic- I made him too sadistic, almost insane- when in reality he is the king of darkness… a calm collected man who means business.**_

_**Now, as far as warnings go, this story will be rated M. Torture, blood, sexual harassment, all that jazz. So if you no likey, no read. **_

_**Enjoy the short introduction to what might become my favorite fic I have ever written…**_

_They all stood, gathered in the central plaza of Tooth Palace. All five guardians and Pitch were rigid with anxiety and anger. Tooth floated slightly above the ground, her wings flapping frantically as she contemplated what decision she should make. North scratched his beard with one hand and fondled his sword with the other. Bunnymund tapped his foot irritably, his ears twitching in agitation. Sandy, using only his expressions to portray his mood as always- stood with his arms crossed and brows furrowed. Jack was wringing his hands. _

_All was silent for several long minutes, the lack of speaking causing Pitch to tap his foot in annoyance. _

_Finally, he spoke. "I would decide if I were you… the magical barrier holding you in here will not last forever. It will break, exploding the Palace and all its occupants. Except me, of course." Pitch grinned, taking a step forward. His hands were clasped behind his back and his onyx robes cascaded down his thin yet muscular frame onto the floor. As he walked the black fabric moved in waves, giving the illusion that the man was walking on darkness. _

_Clank._

_Jack's staff dropped to the ground with a thud. He put his hands in he hoodie pocket and stepped forward over his fallen weapon. _

"_I'll do it." He said in a strong voice, purposefully not looking the other guardians in the eye as to not see their reaction. "I'll become your prisoner. Just don't hurt them."_

_The last Jack heard of his comrades before being consumed by darkness was their pleas of horror, and Pitch's subtle chuckling. _

"Whip him again,"

The crack of leather against flesh echoed throughout the hallways, ringing in Pitch's ears like a lullaby. Pitch hummed quietly to himself, rolling his eyes. He sat atop his tall-backed throne, his head placed lazily on his hand. In front of him was Jack Frost. The frost spirit was on his knees, back towards the elder. His arms were raised slightly above his head, thick chains restraining his wrists to a metal pole in the center of the throne room. A nightguard stood behind Jack with a whip made of nightmaresand and fear raised at the ready. The boy's back was bloodied to the point that it covered his pale skin completely, dripping slowly onto the floor where his knees were bent. His sides heaved, but he did not cry out. His fists clenched.

Pitch was growing irritated with the lack of response from the boy; after all the was supposed to be a punishment. The boy was taking it as if it were nothing but a string being flung across his back.

"You know, Jack," Pitch said, raising his head up. The man stood up slowly, but did not walk down the black marble stares that led from his throne to the dark floor of the throne room. "If I find that the punishments I assign you for your unruly behavior are not working, I will have to resort to…" he placed a foot on the first step. "more _drastic_ measures."

Jack laughed, chuckled actually. The chains clanked as his body shook. He turned his head over his shoulder to look at Pitch, a grin plastered to his face.

"You know old man, I appreciate your use of medieval torture techniques," Jack paused to wipe his bloody nose on his shoulder. "but don't you think it would be fun to just have at it? Ya'know, like hit each other until one of us drops? Ha, now that's my kind of-"

"Take him to his cell. Tie his wrists and ankles to the bedposts. Do not feed or water him for three days." Pitch said abruptly, still standing with one foot on the first step and another on the throne pedestal. Jack's mouth shut slowly, his head turning back to the front of his body.

_Nothing this man can do will break me. I chose this to save my friends, and I will make it out alive. _

_**I hope you liked this! Please let me know, and review with ideas for plot advancement! I love to hear from you guys!**_

_**~Wolfie**_


	2. little skylark

_**A Touch of Fear**_

_**By: frosted-wolf**_

_**Quick note- for those of you wondering, YES. I CHANGED MY USERNAME. My old one (Wolflover77) Was the product of my 5**__**th**__** grade mind . and I thought it was getting old. So I changed it! It's still wolfie though!**_

_**Also, I think I am going to do a Young Justice torture fic, with Robin as the victim. Any comments? Eh eh eh?**_

_**This chapter is meh, I guess. I've gotten several favorites and follows, and two lovely reviews! You don't understand how happy it makes me, and encourages me to keep writing… hell, if I get enough reviews I might upload chapter 3 tonight. **_

_**Anyway, this chap is low on the torture part, but if you know me, that will soon change. *laughs hysterically***_

_**Enjoy~**_

_The guard dragged him by the hood of his sweatshirt down the dank hallway, his feet dragging sluggishly against the stone floor. Jack wriggled, trying to rip the hoodie off him so he wasn't being dragged (and practically suffocated) by the fabric around his neck. The nightguard seemed to take no notice to his struggling; in fact the poor guy didn't seem to be taking in anything around him. The nightmare's eyes were completely black, but still fogged with a look of almost… was that sadness? The way the man's cheeks drooped, the way his nose curved similar to Pitch's… the way his lips sat in a straight line, even the dark circles against his pale skin seemed to come together to form a face that looked utterly lonely- almost tortured. _

_Jack grunted, beginning to walk backwards as the guard continued to pull him forward. The guards, still oblivious to Jack's struggling, kept walking as Jack's hoodie slipped over his head. He was free. _

_Jack chuckled to himself, rubbing his shoulder and neck where the sweat shirt had rubbed him the wrong way. _

_Then he woke up. _

His eyes burst open, eyelashes almost touching his brows as he jerked. He was lying down in his cot, surrounded by the walls of his tiny cell. His arms reached over his head, wrists tied to the bedpost. The same went for his ankles, except on the opposite end of the bed. Surprisingly, his hoodie was actually off. Jack's brows furrowed, remembering what he had thought was a dream.

_Did I really see that man… nightmare thing? That was creepy as all get out…_

Jack hissed, silently cursing. The ropes cut into his skin, causing raw red burns to appear as he struggled. His stomach gurgled and his throat was parched. He had not been fed in days. Suddenly, a jolt of something, though he couldn't tell what, overtook him. Words he felt like he rembered hearing, but word he wasn't sure whom had spoken.

_You're afraid of completely losing yourself. Before Jamie believed in you, you were so close to leaving the world that you cried yourself to sleep every night. You are afraid to be alone, all to yourself- because you know that a darkness lives within you, and you are frightened it will consume you._

Jack's eyes widened, and he did not blink. Where the hell had those words come from? He had told no one of his feelings- _ever. _They remained trapped behind the iron prison that was his ego; he never let anyone in on his emotions. He _especially_ did not speak of the days before he became a guardian, not even to Baby Tooth. Those days were longed to be forgoton, but showed no signs of leaving.

_Emotions. So many at one time. He remembered all of them- the self-hate, the anger, the sadness, the angst. All he wanted… was to die. _

_One of the many nights he cried himself to sleep, his icy tears came flowing and seemed to never end. He was blinded by depression, and had no control over his perception of reality. _

_That day he stepped off the branch. _

_The ground was coming so fast._

_He would finally be free…_

He remembered the wind picking him up before he hit the sharp rocks below. He remembered the anger he felt that he had not succeeded. He remembered the sadness he felt because he had no one to console him, except the wind who had no voice.

Jack let out a groan, shaking his head to rid the images from his thoughts. That was all in the past now, none of it was important.

His demeanor changed almost instantly when the door slammed open and creepy-mc-creepy nightmare dude walked in, followed by Jack's next favorite person: Pitch Black.

Jack simply glared at him.

Jack winced as something pinched his upper arm randomly. He looked utterly confused to see Pitch holding his thumb on the plunger of a syringe.

"Wha-"

"Hush. You have not had food or water in three days- that was your punishment. But," Pitch grabbed the boy's right hand and examined the blue veins that popped up beneath the surface of his pale skin. "You are severely dehydrated. I have given you some fluids to keep you conscious enough to hear my next words to you,"

Jack rolled his eyes. Man, if he had rolled them any harder they would have fallen right back into his skull. "What do you want? Do I have an extra shift of dish duty? Or dusting off the billions of books in your library?" (Yes, he had already had to do both those things).

"I am here to tell you," Pitch walked past his nightguard, slowly reaching his hand out towards Jack's neck. His slender fingers caressed the boy's collarbone, tracing the bone with his index finger. He moved in slow circles until he reached the boys jugular, pausing to feel the pump of Jack's heartbeat. Jack swallowed, letting of f a hint of fear that made Pitch smile.

"That I do not approve of your behavior. My instructions were that one of the five guardians be taken as my prisoner, to _follow my every heed. _Only then would the rest be spared. You thought yourself heroic when you volunteered, but you aren't playing the role of superman. At this rate," Pitch grabbed the boy's neck at this point, his fingers curling around the pale flesh. Jack choked. "I will become angry with you and decide that the promise I was made had been broken, and kill all the guardians despite your efforts to save them."

Jack spat onto the man's face. Pitch recoiled in disgust, his fingers releasing the boy's throat.

"I will give you one more chance, Frost." Pitch said, wiping the saliva off his cheek with the sleeve of his dark tunic. Jack scoffed.

Pitch turned to his nightmare. "Break his collarbone," Jack stiffened. He could deal with whipping, stabbing, burning… but when it came to actually _snapping_ bones, the thought of hearing his own marrow break made vomit rise in the back of his throat.

"Wait, Pitch-" Jack tried to plead bravely.

"And dislocate his right shoulder."

Jack yanked at his restraints, screaming at Pitch in a sudden flare of fear induced anger. Suddenly, a maniacal grin replaced Pitch's stern expression. His next words flowed like silk rattling out on a snake's tongue, poisoning Jack's ears.

"_Now sing for me, my little snow bird."_

_**Please review with feedback!**_


	3. All my Own

_A Touch of Fear_

_**Hello lovelies! Thank all of you so much for the pleasant reviews! Hopefully I will get along to responding to them this week… I hate you guys giving me feedback and me not responding to tell you thanks personally! **_

_**Anyway, things begin to heat up in this chapter, and I will say it ends in a cliffhanger… so no death threats please and thank you (: I do not own ROTG and never will, sadly. **_

_**Enjoy~**_

Pitch wiped his lips with a scarlet napkin, relishing in the deliciousness of his meal that had now entered his stomach. Jack licked his lips; he had not eaten or drank in three days. If he had not been chained to the wall by the blasted collar around his neck, he would have pounced and grabbed the man's left over bread, turkey, vegetables and wine.

"Jack dear, I believe it is time for you to clean up and get ready for bed. Guard, release him." Pitch said, standing up. Jack scrunched his nose in annoyance- why did _he _have to pick up Pitch's crap? Didn't the old fart have servants to do that?

The guard came and took the thick golden chain and collar from around the boy's neck, nudging Jack with his boot to force the boy to get up. Jack only had one free hand; his left shoulder had been dislocated and his collarbone cracked, just as Pitch had wished. Jack shivered at the memory.

_He could hear the bone twisting. He could feel the bones cracking. But he did not scream or cry out. _

_Jack bit his tongue, drawing blood. The crimson taste that took over his taste buds was nauseating. He tried to yank his left arm away from the nightmare guard's grasp, desperately trying to pry it away before his shoulder was _actually _popped out of socket. Minutes of struggling passed, Jack shouting curses at his torturer. His arms had been untied from the bed, but his feet had not, leaving him unable to get up and beat the living shit out of both the guard and Pitch._

_Pitch. The bastard stood in the corner. _He just freaking stood there.

_No expression was displayed on his face, his lips a straight line. Yellow orbs burned into azure ones for several seconds as the two locked glances. The second their eyed locked, something popped. Jack screamed. _

_The guard's seemingly endless twisting had finally ceased, as did Jack's breathing. Jack's shoulder was now dislocated; the guard had accomplished part one of his job. Tears welled up in the boy's eyes involuntarily as he spat at the guard. Pitch still had no expression. He did not even flinch._

_Ice and Black locked eyes once more. _

"_Are you-" Jack panted "happy now Pitch?" he continued through clenched teeth. Pitch did not respond with words. No, he simply smiled. Jack was sent into a fit of flying anger- how dare he laugh at him! _

_He growled at the man, oblivious to the guard who now held a sledge hammer in his hands. The second it smashed down on his collarbone, Jack screeched. He had _heard_ his bone snap. This time the tears rushed past his bottom lids, cascading down his cheek. His bare chest moved heavily up and down as he bit the side of his cheek to try and stop himself from crying out again. _

_Suddenly, Pitch spoke for the first time. "Relocate his shoulder and wrap the wounds. Do not give him medication. This is a punishment." _

"_Punishment my ass! This is tortur- AGH!" if anything hurt more than dislocating a shoulder, it was _relocating_ it. The bone popped right back in the way it had been before, only this time the boy saw white spots dance across his vision. For obvious reasons, Jack was almost positive this guard was not a trained medical professional. The last thing he saw before passing out was the white cotton of medical gauze being wrapped around the entire upper left side of his body. _

As much as he wanted to believe he would, Jack would never let that memory escape his thoughts. Sure, he had a tough exterior- he was a guardian after all- but deep down in his iced soul… Pitch terrified him. He absolutely feared the man. He knew the extent of Pitch's powers, what they could do not only himself, but to the entire world. Jack felt utterly small compared to pitch.

The boy's feet dragged his body to the enormous golden-black dining table. It was quite odd, the fact that Pitch had a dining room. Considering he was the guardian of fear, he did not exactly have many friends to invite over for supper. In fact, his plate and utensils were the only things occupying the smooth surface- they were simply a speck on the large slab of marble.

"Pick up those, and I will meet you in your cell with a change of clothes. You look particularly… unkempt today." Pitch said, motioning to his plate as he placed his napkin beside it.

_Do you expect me to look like royalty? I mean, it's not like I have access to clothes other than the ones you give me. _Jack thought, stomping angrily over to pick the man's plates up with his one free hand.

Pitch left, his billowing robes flowing as he walked up a flight of stairs to the left of the doorway. Jack huffed as he walked to the small, dirty kitchen to place the plates in the sink. He turned around slowly, trying to take as much time as he could to delay being in Pitch's presence. It seemed as if each time the man was with him, something bad happened to Jack; whether it be starvation, brutal torture, physical labor, whatever the man chose. Jack was completely and utterly under Pitch Black's control.

And he absolutely hated it.

Xxxxxxxxxx

The boy walked with his head down, staring at the rusty chains that wrapped tightly around his wrists. From the several weeks he had been in Pitch's lair, the skin on his wrists had been rubbed raw from the constant shackles.

Creepy-Nightmare-Guy walked behind him, dragging his feet along the stone floor. The sound was painful to the ears, and Jack turned around to glance annoyingly at the dark man. However, Jack fell on his rear end and cried out in surprise.

_The man's left foot was missing. _

There was no blood, no dead skin, no bone sticking out. It was just _gone. _When the man took a step forward with his right foot, his left foot dragged behind him. The man looked down at Jack with a daunt face, no glimmer of any kind of emotion showing on his face.

"Up." The man said in a monotone voice, taking a step towards the boy. Jack scrambled to his feet and immediately began walking.

For the first time ever, he was relieved to see his cell door. He ran into it, collapsing on his thin-sheeted bed. He winced as his wounded shoulder hit the hard surface of his old mattress, glancing at the wrapped appendage. White cloth covered his left shoulder down to a few inches above his elbow. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do about his broken collarbone, so the blue-purple skin peeked disgustingly from underneath the gauze.

An eternity of silence passed until Jack finally spoke. "How's the old man been treating you pal? That foot of yours doesn't look to good," the boy said, trying to make some kind of conversation. Maybe if he befriended the guard he could not only get out of torture sessions, but maybe even have someone to share his feelings with.

Oh, how he missed talking to his fellow guardians. They talked about their day, their struggles, their troubles… Jack winced as nostalgia overtook him.

The guard did not answer. In fact, he did not even move. Jack scowled at the man, rolling his eyed to the back of his head in annoyance.

The frost spirit stiffened, though, as he heard heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

Pitch walked in, disrupting their nonexistent conversation. His leather boots scudded against the floor as he walked closer to Jack, his tall figure looming over the small boy. Jack instantly sat up and grimaced at the sight of the man's sullen face, frowning also at the fact that Pitch had no change of clothes as he had promised. Then again, when did _Pitch Black_ keep promises?

Jack did not utter a word, afraid that the elder might hit him, though he would never admit that aloud. Indeed, Pitch scared Jack- deeply and utterly. He knew the extent of the man's powers, the evil and revenge crawling under his skin. Several nights Jack lay awake, conjuring up thoughts of what was in store for him for the rest of his time in this prison. Jack was Pitch's slave now… the man could do anything he wanted. Surely he was not going to make Jack clean dishes and make beds for the rest of his time there… no he had to have something greater planned.

Pitch grabbed Jack by his uninjured arm and yanked the boy to his feet. The lack of chains and collar surprised Jack as Pitch led him down the dark hallway; he had never been allowed out of his cell without some form of restraint. He felt somewhat courageous, that is, until the two men turned the corner.

Xx

Black lace curtains covered the doorway, leading into a large candlelit room. The floor was stone, just as the rest of the palace was, but for some reason this room seemed elegant and beautiful, most unlike the rest of Pitch's home. In the center of the wall parallel to them sat a king size feather mattress cloaked in a red velvet comforter, black and gold silk pillows neatly set along the front of the bed. Jack shrunk back behind the curtains, squeaking in awkward realization.

_He was in Pitch's room. _

The man pulled him from behind the curtains and shoved him to the floor. Jack rubbed his head and watched Pitch walk over to his dresser to retrieve a pair of night shorts and a large shirt.

"Ouch," Jack said gruffly, pointing the statement at Pitch. The man huffed and giggled slightly, tossing the clothes he had just retrieved onto Jack's lap.

"Change boy," Pitch said, walking over to the left side of the bed to take his shoes and cloak off.

"Okay…" Jack said, glancing around. "Uh, where's the bathroom?"

Pitch swiveled around on his now bear heels, his yellow orbs glowing, no _burning_ in the dark lit room. Completely unexpectedly, Pitch let out a cackling wolf- grinning laugh. His sharp teeth contrasted against his dark lips. "There isn't one. You will change right here,"

Jack scoffed. He wished for no one to see his body- especially this impure maniac. Jack treasured his innocence, and did not wish to expose himself. Not only was he covered in embarrassing scars and bruises, but he was uncomfortable with his body already. Small, thin, average height… boring. He had nothing to show off anyway. "Will you at least turn around ass face?" Jack said, grabbing his clothes and standing up.

In a matter of seconds Jack's throat was being held in Pitch's tight grasp, his head slammed against the wall. Pitch shoved a knee into Jack's stomach, eliciting a sharp inhale of breath to come from the small boy. When Jack's mouth opened, Pitch grabbed the boys chin and held his mouth open. The man's face was dangerously close to the boys as he began to speak. "I will not hesitate to cut that lovely tongue out of your throat, do you hear me?"

Jack was silent for several seconds before ripping his head from the man's grasp. Jack closed his mouth and averted his eyes from the dark man in burning anger. Then something inside his head snapped. Jack shoved the man away with his uninjured arm.

The boy stood wide-eyed against the wall, his hands balling into fists, nails cutting into the skin of his palm. Thoughts raced through his mind- he couldn't stop the small pieces of information that he had acquired within the past twenty minutes from piecing themselves together in his fevered mind.

_He didn't bring me here to change. Why would he? If he had just wanted me to change he would've given me the clothes in my cell and left. But… I'm in his _room._ His bed is right there. We're both half naked and he's about to make me take my pants off in front of him. _

Jack shuddered as images flooded through his mind. He slightly lost it when Pitch took a step towards him. The small boy's spirit had been wounded by the man's intentions, his brain was in shock that anyone (yes, even Pitch) would think of something as disgusting as this. When Pitch began to move, Jack scrambled on his legs and ran to the opposite side of the room to avoid Pitch's hands.

"Jack? What's the matter?" Pitch said with mock curiosity.

Jack squeaked as Pitch jumped at him, his weak and malnourished limbs not fast enough to escape the man's pounce. Pitch had Jack pressed against the wall, _their bodies were touching._ Jack quickly tried to squirm from underneath the elder, but Pitch's knee shifted upward, lodging itself between Jack's legs. The boy yelped in surprise as a part of him no one had ever touched was being handled in quite a rough manner.

"Are you," Pitch began, bending his neck down to the frostling's jugular. His lips caressed the porcelain skin as he whispered his next words. "_scared of me?"_

_**Ehhhh? Was it at least decent? Review and give me future ideas, corrective criticism or questions- I LOVE hearing from you guys!**_


	4. Frosted Tears

_A Touch of Fear_

_By: frosted-wolf_

_**Aghhh guys I'm so sorry! I've been trying to bring my grades up and shit, so I haven't been able to update very much. I have gotten so many nice reviews on this story- it's amazing! Next chapter (when I actually have time to do it) I'll thank everyone personally for the nice words!**_

_**WARNING: this chapter gets kind of risqué… well at least a little bit. So read at your own risk. (this is my first ever story involving sexual contact-ish stuff, so pardon my ignorance if you please)**_

_**ALSOOOOO- When Nightmares are Present readers: I'm reposting the chapters on Archive of our Own for various reasons**_

_**The plotline is complete shit. I was literally pulling stuff out of my but, not thinking about details so half the story doesn't make sense and there isn't really a motive**_

_**Grammar/ dumbass errors. I'm a human. Sorry. **_

_**So, if you guys would bear with me- I promise I'll finish it. I'm working on the next chapter and I'll probably post it, but I'll go back and change the rest of the chapters. **_

_**Anywhoo, enjoy~**_

Bunnymund sipped his coffee cautiously, making sure not to suck it quite too fast as the liquid was steaming hot. The rest of the team sat in relaxed positions around him in the meeting room of the Pole. Tooth had a sullen face, her head resting slightly on her arm. Sandy's eyes were half shut, and North was absentmindedly tinkering with something .

Besides their seemingly laid back exteriors, each and every one of the Guardians were slowly breaking from the inside out. Their minds relayed back to the day of Jack's kidnapping… the way he'd given himself up for their sake. No matter how many attempts North, Bunny, Tooth and Sandy made, Jack refused to give up- he insisted on offering himself to save their lives. The look in his eyes would be burned in the heart of the big four for the rest of their lives.

Several days after his kidnapping and numerous failed attempts to rescue him, the remaining Guardians gathered together to make an agreement; an emotional contract of sorts. They swore that no matter how emotionally unstable they became, no matter how much any one of them wanted to break down and cry at any point in time, they had to stay strong. Only in time would they be able to devise a plan intricate enough to fool Pitch and get Jack back. If they let their emotions get the better of them, all would crumble and all hopes would be lost. They all knew this. Grace under pressure.

They had made that decision six months ago.

Bunny hadn't slept in weeks. Sandy never smiled. North's eyes didn't sparkle any more. Tooth sobbed herself to sleep every night.

Though none of them told each other about their feelings on the situation, they could see it in each other's eyes. It was an unspoken realization between the four that this situation was weighing heavily on their lives- more than anything had before. When Jack had still been with them, their eyes had held some kind of emotion- whether it be happiness, sadness, anger. Now, they were all emotionless; nothing at all. Numb.

Bunny's foot tapped against the carpeted floor and the fire cracked. His holiday-themed coffee mug tapping against the wood of the coffee table as he set it down.

After moments of silence, Bunny cleared his throat and talked for the first time in several days.

"We've got to save Jack, mates. I don't know about you, but I can't bloody take it."

As if on Christmas morning, each of their eyes sparked with newfound inspiration and hope.

It was game time.

Xxx

"_Are you," Pitch began, bending his neck down to the frostling's jugular. His lips caressed the porcelain skin as he whispered his next words. "_scared of me?"

By the time Pitch had Jack's pants in his hands, the frost spirit had lost himself. He was more than scared of the elder man crouching over him- he was terrified. Jack knew that's what the man wanted… he thrived on fear, after all. But Jack couldn't control himself; he had never been treated in a way such as this before and it made his stomach queasy with quilt and terror. He no longer had control over his tears, what came out of his mouth, and most certainly his bodily sensations.

"Jack, quit moving," Pitch said, tossing Jack's ragged old pants onto the floor. The boy was already shirtless, leaving less work for the guardian of fear.

Cold metal chains wrapped themselves around Jack's wrists and clamped them to the bedpost. Pitch sat cross-legged between Jack's legs, the only thing separating their parts from touching Jack's boxers and Pitch's robe. The man reveled in the exquisite form of the young boy in front of him- the scars, the rippling muscles that still shown through his starved body… Pitch couldn't help it.

_It turned him on._

Jack was sniffling, his head lying on the pillows behind him and his eyes staring at his bleeding wrists. His legs had long since stopped their kicking; Pitch's merciless grip had near snapped his calf in two. Why the man wouldn't let Jack put his pants on himself he would never know.

"Jack, could you at least look at me?" Pitch asked with mock desperation.

Jack lifted his head and yanked on his chains in anger. His eyes welled up with tears, both of fear and of disgust. But he did not let them fall.

"Jack, I sense your fear… no… in fact…" Pitch suddenly got on all fours and maneuvered himself so that his hands were placed on either side of the boy's torso, his right leg jammed between the frostling's legs. Jack held his breath, desperately trying to suppress his body's automatic response to the intimate touch. Pitch ran his slender fingers down the boy's chest, stopping right before the elastic of his boxers.

"_I can taste it."_ Pitch's teeth dove into Jack's skin as they had done so many times before, but for some reason it did not hurt this time. No, in fact it burned. Not in a painful way, but almost… was that… pleasure?

Pitch's lips moved in rhythmic motions, gently sucking on the skin of Jack's neck. His tongue teased over the pale skin, causing the boy to shudder. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of something- _anything- _to take his mind off the situation at hand. His body was betraying him far too quickly.

"Jack," Pitch whispered, his soft lips gliding across Jack's jawline. The boy struggled to get away from the man. Not only was his worst enemy trying to make him scream in ecstasy, but he was _enjoying it. _The chains clanked loudly from Jack's intense movements.

"_what do you- mm" _Jack was cut off mid-sentence. Jack was kicking his legs, trying to escape the man's disgusting grasp. Although, despite his struggles to get free, he simply made the situation worse. Jack's hips bucked in anger as he tried to escape, allowing Pitch to slide his hand down to the boy's lower region. Jack cried out- at first in pleasure, and then in disgust. He could not believe this was happening… how in the hell would he get _pleasure _out of this? He hated his body at the moment almost as much as he hated Pitch.

"Shh- the only thing I want to hear out of you," Pitch began to slowly move his hand up and down the boy's member, gently squeezing periodically. Fresh tears spewed from Jack's eyes as his hips moved into the man's movements. He was broken. Done for.

"_Is my name."_ the man finished. Jack silently cursed himself before he cried out in surprise. Someone had opened the door.

_**Yay cliffies. I love you guys to death, I honestly do. So I hope you love me too.**_

_**If anyone has suggestions for kinky shiz in the future, or any ideas in general, feel free to PM or review! I'm always open for that kind of stuff!**_


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